


Love and Other Drugs

by Skarlet170



Category: South Park
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skarlet170/pseuds/Skarlet170
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tweek realizes not everyone gets their happy ending, and how painful it really is to live in a small mountain town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love and Other Drugs

“Hey, where are you going…?” Tweek sat up in his bed, still naked.

“Home.” Craig looked at him like it was obvious.

“You’re not gonna… stay?” The question meant a lot more than staying at Tweek’s house. He wanted Craig to stay with him; stay with him as his _boyfriend._

“Oh.” Craig’s hand was on the door handle. “No Tweekers. We both got what we wanted and you were great, but I don’t do relationships.”

***

That happened two weeks ago. Now I’m in here, sitting on the other side of the class as Craig. Avoiding him. Also, I have no coffe.

Gah! No, I’m not , _nghn,_ avoiding him or anything! He can’t know I’m avoiding him because I’m not! He’s gonna think I’m being an idiot and then he’ll be mad at me and then we’ll stop being friends and never speak to me again and—

Well, it’s not like we’ve spoken much lately anyway. I pulled at my hair, trying to keep calm and stop my nervous fidgeting. Everyone was kinda used to it by now, but they still turned sometimes. Turned and looked and judged me; oh let’s make fun of the twitchy kid! Let’s push and shove Tweek in the hallway cause he’ll scream and twitch and drop all his stuff! He’ll yell and spill his coffe! I had no coffee. _Gah!!_

Life in high school was a nightmare. In every possible way.

I bit down on my bottom lip, letting my hands fidget with by shirt buttons to keep them from picking at the skin around my nails. Not that there was any left anyway.

“Aaaah!!” The bell rang and I shrieked. I… why did that still frighten me, seriously. Sometimes I thought it was more out of habit than actual fright. Either way, people still stared. Including Craig. Oh God no, Craig was looking this way!

I swallowed an uncomfortable lump in my throat, springing out of my seat and bolting from the classroom. By some miracle, all my things managed to stay with me, and I sat down in my next class with only as little as a slightly scraped knee. Where that happened, I have no clue, but I roughly remembered a fire extinguisher. Everyone told me I needed to be more careful, that I was only hurting myself with my clumsiness, but that wasn’t true! Even unmoving object were out to get me!! Oh God they were in league with the underpants gnomes!! Or worse! The FBI! THE FBI WAS OUT TO GET ME!!!

“Is something the matter, Mr. Tweak?” My arts teacher was giving me a forced smile. I must have screamed or something. I guess I do that so much I don’t even notice. Great. Memory lapses are _exactly_ what I wanted. No, I wanted coffee. I _needed_ coffee. I didn’t have any.

Art went by without me causing an apocalypse. Pencils were nice and kept my hands busy. Turns out I had an eye for detail, who knew? So to keep me quiet and generally calm, the teacher gave me a big blank paper and let me draw whatever I wanted. It always ended up being monsters of all shapes and size, with eyes and teeth, or flowers and coffee. Sometimes feathers and houses, and then lots of wires. They were just lines but I called them wires, ok. They connected pieces of the drawing together to lead electricity through them, making everything alive. I didn’t do any drawing at home; it was a waste of time. Besides, I was too busy working or cracking my brain over homework.

Oh Jesus. _Work!!_

Maybe I yelped again, or made some other sound – my knees definitely made a horrible bang as they collided with the table – but no one really heard it this time over the shrieking of the bell. Looks like for once, something was louder than me.

“Watch where you’re going, freak!” Someone almost knocked me over as I made my way through the mass of bodies to my locker. This was a daily battle. A daily battle which chipped away at my sanity. I had to walk with my head down, bag clutched to my chest, legs spaced awkwardly so they wouldn’t tangle, and then on top of that I got pushed around. I didn’t even know these people, Jesus! They all just thought it would be fun to trip the crazy kid.

It must have been fun I guess? They laughed and I whimpered. The crazy kid would drop his coffee or his books, or fall on his ass and it would be funny. _I didn’t have any goddamn coffee!!!!!_

I entered the code into my locker on the third try. My hands shook too much and these turning locks were a total bitch. Everything about the lockers was horrible, actually. They were my worst enemy. For one, I could never be sure if something wasn’t hiding in there, waiting to pounce! And then I got pushed up or thrown against them more than I could remember. There was even that one time where they almost broke my fingers by banging the locker door over my hands, but then Craig—

“Nghn…” My head collided with the top of the locker. Ow. That was going to leave a bruise. Whatever. The only one who would fuss over it is my mom. Now I had other things to worry about. Like Craig. Except I wasn’t allowed to thing about Craig! He’d always make my chest feel all tight and funny, uncomfortably so, with his piercing blue eyes and—

I shook my head and hurried out of the building. We weren’t talking ok! I wasn’t allowed to think about Craig!! He’d just make everything worse!!

“Tweek.” Someone grabbed me and I shrieked, jerking out of their grasp and stumbling backwards. Oh Jesus don’t let me fall!

“Tweek, are you ok.” It wasn’t Jesus, but Craig who caught me again. My body went stiff at his touch. Why was he talking to me? Why did he talk in that concerned, low tone of his? Was he even really concerned, or was I just imagining this?

“I-I-I’m, _nghn_ , OK!!” Fuck, I haven’t stuttered that badly in ages. This was all Craig’s fault. Or my fault. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t talk to him like a normal person. I couldn’t interact with him like before—

“Hey why don’t you come hang out with us?” Craig’s hand was gonna grip my shoulder again. I must have flinched harder than I thought because it withdrew halfway.

“NO!” I pretty much shouted in his face, eyes wide and shaking. Craig flinched in such an uncomfortable way. “I mean! Not like I don’t wanna hang out with you, I do! I just have Work! Right now!! OH JESUS!!”

Maybe I was over-reacting, but I did have to get to work. Dad was gonna hand me my ass again for being late, and by that I mean he’d bore me with his lame coffee talk. I loved coffee, just dad’s coffee talk was really horrible. He’d start and never finish, he’d start off topic in the middle of his sentence, never finish the thought and then start 5 others. Listening to him drove me nuts.

Not as nuts as what just happened though. I ran away from Craig. I _bolted away from him like my life depended on it._ He talked to me like a normal person and I freaked out. I’m not normal. I never was. And Craig and I were never going to be normal either. Not like it was a thing, Craig and I. Jesus no. We were just friends. Or used to be. After that _thing_ … he wouldn’t go out with me. He didn’t do relationships. We slept together. I thought – Oh sweet Jesus. Not again.

I pulled at my hair and yelped, earning a few looks from people on the street. That didn’t bother me anymore. Right now I had to get Craig out of my head. He was everywhere. At school, in my head, in my heart; sometimes I could even feel him _in_ me! That was crazy. I was crazy. I needed my coffee.

There wouldn’t be coffee until I reached the shop. My thermos broke on my way to school this morning and I almost broke down with it. Kyle and Stan had to scrape me off the pavement so I wouldn’t cut my hands up on broken pieces of the container. It seemed so stupid now that I looked back on it, but in that moment it was the end of the world. I had to live on shitty school instant coffee all day, and that just didn’t help. Plus these people didn’t let me have more than 2 cups. They were crazy. They just didn’t understand. No one did. Maybe Craig dad but—GAH!! NO MORE CRAIG!!

I saw the familiar building growing ahead of me. Even the thought of coffee calmed me down. The shop was almost within my reach now, holding the magical brew that I craved, that I lived on; it was my drug and my cure. Coffee made everything better. It made dealing with life better. It made me better. With coffee in my hand and work on my mind there was no space for Craig.

Tonight I’d get another thermos and tomorrow will be a better day.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to let you know - most chapters will be written from Tweek's POV, sometimes going into third person view, and maybe even Craig's POV. 
> 
> There's gonna be more ships along the way, but I'll add those to the tags as they come.
> 
> (I can't believe I started another multi-chapter work, so god help me.)


End file.
